Temptation and a Vision from God
by VGWrighte
Summary: Sister Bernadette trying to make her decision in 2.7. Complete.
1. Temptation

Temptation and A Vision From God

Part One: Temptation

Based upon Call the Midwife, developed by Heidi Thomas

\- - Saint Anne's Sanatorium, Fall 1958 - -

It was easy to think about Timothy. She never felt guilty or ashamed when she thought about Timothy. Thoughts of him made her feel joyful.

The love she felt for him - for that is surely what she felt for him - was so pure.

The boy had an exceptional light in his eyes and an infectious smile. He saw the world with such interest and delight. It was not an unusual occurrence for her to read something, see something, or hear something that would instantly make her think of Timothy.

 _"Wouldn't Timothy enjoy this?"_ or _"Wouldn't Timothy find this interesting?"_

She could often imagine his face alight with wonder.

Unfortunately, thoughts of Timothy typically induced thoughts of Doctor Turner.

It was not easy to think about Doctor Turner. Not easy in the slightest.

Thoughts of him left her with an ache in her heart and shame in her soul. For every time she thought of him, she thought about the dreams. Sinful, lustful dreams. Dreams surely sent by Satan to steer her from the path of God.

At first it was just a recurring dream of him kissing her hand. Then it was kissing. Then it was more than kissing. Entirely too much more.

She prayed to God for deliverance from the temptation. She prayed for strength to continue on the path that she had chosen, that she had been called to. She prayed for understanding. Understanding for why she felt this way, the purpose behind it. Was it just some cross she was meant to bear? Was there something she was supposed to overcome? Was she supposed to leave the order and pursue him?

Doctor Turner wrote her with frustrating regularity. She hadn't opened any of the letters, afraid of what they might contain. Afraid that they would further confuse her.

Her first thought, the most obvious conclusion, was that she was being tempted by Satan or tested by God. But for what purpose? Her hopeful thought was that she was meant to love him, and he loved her in return. Her hopeful thought was that each of his letters contained a declaration of his love; the love that God gave to Adam and Eve. She hoped that his letters contained a plea for her to be Timothy's mother.

How she wanted to be Timothy's mother!

How she wanted to bear a child with the surname Turner.

But why would God have called her to serve Him in the religious life if she was meant for the family life? Why would He have called her to be a Sister, if He wanted her to be a wife and mother.

She needed a sign from Him. A sign to reveal His purpose for her. To let her know if the love she felt for him was God-sent or some test of faith which she needed to prove herself. What did she need to prove?

Instead, she was haunted. All too often, she saw his kind eyes in her dreams. She felt his lips on her skin and his body against hers. And she woke, sick with the shame of her lust.

And she would pray. _Saint Michael, The Archangel, defend us. Protect us against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou, o' prince of heavenly hosts, thrust into hell Satan, and all evil spirits who wander the world seeking the ruin of souls._

\- - END Part One - -


	2. A Vision from God

Temptation and A Vision From God

Part Two: A Vision From God

Based upon Call the Midwife, developed by Heidi Thomas

\- - Saint Anne's Sanatorium, Fall 1958 - -

Her sleep had been incredibly unrestful of late. The treatment left her exhausted, but whenever she laid down to rest, sleep would not come. Her mind would race with thoughts of love, lust, sin, and God's plan for her. When she finally did fall asleep, she often woke several times during the night before finally giving up on the effort and simply starting her day in prayer.

Her prayers were silent and lonely at Saint Anne's. She missed the companionship of the song of her Sisters. But, she prayed none the less.

This particular morning, she woke in a sweat after a lustful vision in the night. It had rained in the evening and she had attempted to retire early, but ended up staring at the ceiling. At one point, she attempted to read, but her subconscious had set an ambush for her and one of his letters fell out of her bible.

She had put her bible down, angrily removed her glasses, and curled up on her side with her eyes pinched shut, trying not to envision his smiling face.

Now, she stood by her window, looking out into the cloudy midnight sky.

She dropped to her knees. Usually, she prayed upright, but the weight of her conscience was too heavy, and she sunk to the floor.

"Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be they name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done; on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from all evil.

"Dear Father, reveal your plan. Reveal the purpose of this temptation to your faithful servant. Deliver me from these visions of evil. I do not know how much more I can bear."

She shut her eyes tightly. "Dear God, help me."

 _"That's it, go to Mummy."_

 _She opened her eyes to find herself kneeling in a living room she didn't recognize. Timothy knelt across the room from her, holding the hands of a blonde baby who looked more than a little unsteady on her feet._

 _"Go to Mummy," he repeated, supporting her hands as the toddler took a few steps._

 _"Come here, Dearest," she heard herself saying. "Come to Mummy."_

 _Baby started taking uncertain steps towards her, encouraged by both Timothy and herself. With only a few steps left between them, a blue trouser clad leg stepped in front of her; arms came down and swept the girl up. "There's my girl!"_

 _She looked up, for he was practically standing over her, into the face of Doctor Turner. He quickly crouched and pressed a kiss to her cheek before standing back up and lifting his girl high above his head, dancing around the room. She stared up at him, in shock. He had kissed her like he had done it a thousand times before, and would do so a thousand times again._

 _"Mum," Timothy had gotten up and was standing in front of her, offering her his hand. She took it with a smile._

She opened her eyes to find herself on her knees in her room at Saint Anne's. She was silently weeping. If that wasn't a vision from God, she didn't know what was. She stood, and looked out the window. The sun had not risen yet, but she could see watercolors rising off the horizon.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She smiled and returned to her bed, intending to get another hour of sleep or two before the nurses came for her morning treatment. For the first time in months, she felt free to dream.

\- - That evening - -

Shelagh sat in the chair in the corner of the day room, reading his letters.

She had spoken with Sister Julienne earlier that day. It had been difficult, to say the least. "I want other things," she had said. How was she supposed to explain that she had fallen in love with the local GP? That she was all but certain he felt the same way? That he had written her countless letters, and no matter what they were in regards to, she was going to forsake her vows to God in order to become a wife and mother? To become his wife and the mother to his son. She didn't fully understand it herself.

Now she was reading his letters, and they were everything she hoped they would be. At first, he had signed them "Dr. Turner," then "Dr. P. Turner," and finally, simply. "P. Turner." She realized she didn't even know what his Christian name was. Peter, Paul, Phillip, Patrick, Percival. Perry, even. Or perhaps something slightly more unusual: Preston, Peirce, Phineas, or Parker.

She spoke the names quietly aloud to herself, feeling the way they felt on her lips. It occurred to her that he didn't know her Christian name either, she hadn't used it in ten years.

Shelagh found it incredibly romantic. They were near strangers, brought together by Christ and the calling of healing and service to others.

She finished the last letter and placed it face down with the others. He never wrote, explicitly, that he loved her. But his meaning was clear enough.

He missed her. His heart ached without her. His actions the day of the fete had left him ashamed and guilty, but not sorry. He started attending church again, to pray for her and to pray for help. He wouldn't - couldn't - ask her to leave the Order, but she would always have a place in Poplar. She would always have a home with him.

She said a prayer of thanksgiving and picked up the first letter and began to read them all again.

\- - END - -


End file.
